Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Weaning

Yesterday I felt as if I hadn't left my child's room in days. My three month old was being denied the pacifier and tears were plentiful! It's hard to describe to someone who has never held a crying baby what it feels like over the course of four hours. It is different for every person but it generally ends up in tears, on both sides of the front.

There are plenty of reasons to keep a pacifier for your child until they can turn to you and say "Mom, I want my pacifier or I'm going to have my robot army destroy you." but with our three month old it was getting out of hand. It had gotten to the point where every nap she was taking was only twenty minutes long. I had to hold the pacifier to her mouth for her to have a longer nap. I didn't want this to suddenly start happening during the night. I had fears of falling asleep hanging over the crib, my arm falling asleep and my daughter continuing to cry. One can imagine that it was time to make the situation better.

You would think that this would be an easy fix, remove the pacifier! Imagine having a spoon to eat soup. All your life you've only eaten soup with a spoon. Someone refuses to let you have your soup with a spoon.... all you can think about is that damn spoon and how hungry you are. Trying to get this rather ocd person to understand that you can eat the soup if you pick up the bowl, is like explaining how to drive a car to someone inconsolable and screaming at you. You want to leave, you want to exit the car and walk away... but you want your sixteen year old to learn to drive so you can get some peace and quiet in the house!

So there I was consoling an angry three month old. I couldn't just leave her there in her room alone. So I held this screaming hot box and swayed her until she would fall asleep. I'd put her down and quietly leave her room... and she would sleep for twenty minutes.... why did I do this again?

Next week I'll be weaning the pacifier from my toddler. That should be easier, right? Cause I'm pretty sure he doesn't have any robot armies... I'll just double check his closet to be sure.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Trying to Read

I am reading a mystery novel. Let me rephrase that: I'm trying to read a mystery novel. It's set in feudal Japan and the leading character is a Samurai... a son of a Ronin to be exact! Yes, I love these stories!

I fondly remember how I read books when I didn't have children. There were nights when I would start a book and finish it before daybreak. What a wonderful romp. The pages being turned slowly as I rolled through my sheets in high anticipation of what inevitably ended each book session. The hours of excitement leading up to that climax. Such joyous nights have now turned into fifteen minutes of scanning the pages and skipping paragraphs just to get to the damn ending. Highly reminiscent of other fun things to do in bed which took such a dramatic turn after children.

This particular novel has been in my possession from the library for about two weeks and I've been able to read about fifty pages. It's sad, really, when I have to flip back to the beginning just to remember the character's names. What makes it even more head shakingly disappointing is that I fell asleep on two separate occasions while trying to read. It wasn't even at a boring part of the story, like meeting a new character or emphasizing the redness of a stupid painting with text, it was during a fight scene! There I found myself, jolted awake. Looking down at the library book strewn on the floor, I noticed it had closed on impact. My first thought: I lost the page I was on.

I decided to try to finish the book while my two year old son was watching tv. It usually gave me about an hour to make dinner for him, so I thought it would give me atleast twenty minutes to read. WRONG! It's amazing how often a child can need help desperately.

One would assume that if a toy fell over you could pick it up and nothing would be amiss. With a two year old if something drops/breaks there are usually seven things you have to do to fix the situation enough so you can walk away.

1) Console child.
2)Fix whatever fell/broke.
3)Console child again because the fixing is taking too long.
4)Show your work.
5)Console child because they don't believe the issue has been fixed.
6)Distract the child with another toy/activity.
7)Watch as the child ignores you and "happens" to return to the activity they were doing before they had the afore mentioned panic attack.
- Have five minutes to yourself and repeat.

Long story short.... guess what happened when I tried to read my book.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Great Responsibility... or Cookies

I've been pretty good about running every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It's only been a week, so I've done it once. Not bad for a procrastinating mother of two! It seems to be getting easier too! Meaning: I can run about half a block further without thinking "I'm dying, I'm dying, o my god I'm dying". Running, I have heard, can be meditative. Unless meditation is cursing under your breath while letting all your limbs flail and your face crumple into unspeakable pain, I'm not meditating.

Every time I see a fellow human being in such pain of their own accord I always want to commend them. They are getting from one place to another while putting their bodies through torture one step at a time. I always wondered if a call of encouragement would help them go another block or two. "Good for you!" I shout in my head. I remember that scratchy feeling you get in your lungs, as if the air coming in and out so fast has cut through that delicate layer of lung we all depend on so heavily. I remember the awful aching of every joint after a long run and the ice packs to sooth it. I remember all the pictures taken of people running. So painful! Then say quietly "Thank God I'm not doing it!"

So, it was a bit of a surprise when, while running in my most unique way, a neighbor popped out her front door and called after me "Good for you!". Suddenly, 80's inspirational music swelled and life slowed to increase the importance of the next few seconds. I turned to give the thumbs up and she returned the favor. With a smile on my face I pushed harder through my run and felt like Wonder Woman. There I was, running, pushing myself to the limit and all while trying to remember the words to "Eye of the Tiger".

When I got home, panting and trying not to limp, my husband turned to me and his expression was utter shock. "Are you ok?" he asked. "I'm... fine.... why?" I said between breaths. "You just look a bit... tired. How far did you run?". I shot a side glance at the mirror and noticed I had changed colors. Gone was my normal human glow and it was replaced by purple spots. How hard had I run? And who knew a bit of encouragement had so much power!?

My next thought was of my neighbor returning back into her house and saying to herself "Thank God I'm not doing it!".

With great power comes great responsibility, Lady! So where are my cookies!?

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Button Anyone?

Being obsessed with sewing is a rather expensive habit. I found myself one day torn between buying milk or a six dollar button. Now, to be fair, I didn't really need the milk but this button was TO DIE FOR! It looked almost like a coin lost over the last few centuries that had a story to tell. You know, one of those things you would pick up and think "I bet it's been places I've never even known!". Perfectly worn and just the right type of dirty. That kind of tarnish one would expect when walking into a Pier 1 or Crate and Barrel. It is a regret of mine that I pass these things up. So what? It was just six dollars! Where's the harm?

This of course I could say about buttons I have seen on four different occasions each week for the past three years. Adding up all those buttons one would realize that: first, I own 468 buttons I've never actually used, two, that I am insane, and three, don't ask how much fabric I own (my husband would kill me if he found my stash).

To make the long story short, I like sewing and other things that pertain to it, like buttons. So when we were strapped for cash during my husband's birthday I made him a Kimono. I found the greatest fabric. I wanted it to be wearable in the winter so I lined it with felt. It was gloriously masculine! Thankfully my husband can pull that kind of stuff off without looking like he's trying too hard. One must remember that he would be wearing a comic book character T shirt under it.

Although I loved it and it looked great on him, my hubby wore it once for thirty seconds before placing it quietly into our closet. It's been months and I want someone to wear the damn thing! So I asked if I could sell it. He was cool with it, but he mentioned that he really liked it and it was just that the felt was uncomfortable. It was too hot and bunched under his armpits (wuss). So, in accordance with my list of things I want to do for myself I have started pulling out all the stitches and am starting anew with this piece. And the best part of this whole thing? I'll have to go out and buy a new button for it! YEEE!

Monday, August 16, 2010

Setting an Alarm

It's important to set an alarm, of course this makes sense when you need to be reminded of the time. It also helps when you need to be up at a certain time in the morning to do something rather important. For me, setting an alarm is like wearing a bra when you have no genes for boobs... it's there so you look like you're trying.

So I set my alarm and the inevitable happened. The snooze button was given a proper work out. After about an hour of this I was then woken by my two year old son calling out for help. He had apparently tried to set up his train tracks on his bed and he was rather upset because the tracks wouldn't stay level. This of course was followed by tears and snot becoming one of my pajama accessories. It was at this moment I realized why I had stopped buying nice clothes. After the tears had stopped and the building site of the train tracks had been moved to a flat surface, there was twenty minutes of quiet playing time.

Every parent knows what to do when their two year old is having quiet play time, you sleep. So I fell asleep in my son's bed only to be woken up by a pacifier being shoved into my mouth. My son stood over me with a big smile and in his own two word language called for me to "o-pin mowph" for my "pass ee". I refused and a new layer of snot and tears bedazzled my hair.

After ten minutes of this my husband appeared squinty eyed and sluggish. "Did you want to take a run?" as I lunged out of the twin bed I was trailed by a blur of color, just like in comic books.

Out the door I ran. My "run" was a much slower pace so I could enjoy the quiet of the out doors. I could hear a married couple yelling at each other through their kitchen window, there was construction just half block south and the train just half a mile north of me was screeching away. Ahh, nature....

Strangely enough I came home to a happy toddler, upbeat husband and sleeping infant. I showered and went back to bed. This time I didn't have to hit the snooze button on my alarm at all because seconds later I was woken by my infant daughter screaming bloody murder. Why did I set the alarm in the first place?

Saturday, August 14, 2010

List

I decided I wanted to get more done in my day.... that's the short answer for why I am writing it down. The long answer is that I want to be able to look back at my progress. I want to force myself to get on here each day and write, if nothing else but "I didn't do it". I am hoping this procrastination can be pushed a bit further as I try to write about changing while actually staying the same, because let's be blunt, no one changes all that much...

Let's start with the list I've made for myself:

Walk the dog - seriously, this should be the easiest part of my day but you'd be surprised!
Exercise - I want to be 120 lbs! Ya right, let's instead take off the 40 I gained just having my daughter alone
Meditate - as a Buddhist I have lacked in this lately... perhaps it has to do with the fact my children are a toddler and a newborn?
Read - does it count if I read facebook?
Sew - this is something I hope will really stick, 45min of sewing or at least getting patterns ready to sew each day!

See, it seems simple, right? The husband gets home at 11pm and leaves for work at 11am (most days), so I'll be able to do this in the morning. After I've gotten 6hrs of sleep! That is of course if the baby only wakes up once in the night, which doesn't always happen. I could do this on 3hrs of sleep though? Right? Wish me luck, my internet Mistress!